Our Kind of Love
by MagicMysticFantasy
Summary: Sam grew up feeling like his whole lifetime had been spent running. Either he was tripping over himself to catch up to his mother and brother, or he was taking off from everything he didn't want to face. It kept him from fitting in quite right wherever he was for years. So he left. OR The story of Sam Kirk that we never got in the reboots. (Story 3/5)


_Note: Hi everyone! So, this was originally supposed to be a quick oneshot for my story The Surprises of Captain Kirk, but clearly that didn't happen. The story turned into one about Sam, and became this behemoth instead, so I had to separate it from the original oneshot, haha! As such, there will be a follow-up to this (kind of like an epilogue, though it's the originally intended story) as a chapter in that story soon, though, so keep an eye out!_

_This has been a work in progress since November of 2018 though, so I'm happy to FINALLY share it with you guys now that this project is over, and I hope you all enjoy! ^-^_

* * *

It had taken Sam a long time to learn to follow his instincts. In fact, it wasn't until he was in his twenties that he'd figured out that the internal tug he felt on the inside actually _meant_ something, and that if he started getting the urge to do something or go somewhere, he should probably listen to it. It was far more superstitious than he usually preferred – he was a _scientist_ after all – but there were too many seeming coincidences for him to not give in eventually. And besides, even science had unexplainable results and several percentages of uncertainty sometimes.

Thinking back, it probably had started when he was staying at their Nana's farm, back before Jimmy was even born. He'd been sitting on the porch ruffling the ears of Nana's old dog, Kep, when according to his Nana, he'd frozen in place. The way she had told it, she hadn't even noticed something was wrong, only looking up from her book when she'd heard Kep's whining.

"Sam?" she had asked, standing up in concern when he didn't respond. "Sam? What's wrong?"

She had come to the other side of him, Kep's whines sounding softly in the background, only to gasp in alarm at the frozen look of shock on Sam's face, tears silently streaming down his face. Sam didn't remember this event himself, too caught up in the aftermath of everything to remember this.

"Mommy is coming home," he had apparently said quietly.

"Yeah, she and your dad are coming home soon. She'll be back before you know it, kiddo." Nana had rubbed his back reassuringly, trying to get him to stop crying, but Sam had only shaken his head in denial.

"No, Mommy's coming home with the baby, not Daddy," he'd claimed. He hadn't spoken another word all day, but the following morning, he'd been back to normal and Nana had been relieved. Or rather, she had been until she'd gotten a message from Starfleet saying that the Kelvin had been destroyed, and George Kirk Sr. hadn't made it. What about his wife? Oh, she was en route back to Earth with their newborn son.

Sam remembers how pale Nana had been ending the video call, and how silent she had been for the next several minutes. He also remembers her turning to look at him with an unreadable expression on her face for the next several hours after that.

Sure enough, Winona and baby Jimmy had made it back to Iowa several days later. Only then did Sam realize just what the message had meant by 'hadn't made it'. He stared down at his little brother's face and put his hand in front of him. As tiny fingers latched onto a single one of his, Sam studied him, watching him breathe. This tiny human was one of the reasons his father had made the choice he had. He didn't know how he felt about that, just that there was a confusing mix of emotions swirling around inside.

They didn't return to their previous house, staying with Nana at the farm. It wasn't until the furniture arrived, along with all of their things, that Sam even found out that his mother had sold their previous house. Their grandmother watched as the movers brought their stuff in from the trucks with a closed expression, but Sam's gut told him that she was worried, and he watched as her eyes followed Winona as she directed the movers while absentmindedly bouncing Jimmy in her arms.

Over the next several months, Sam quickly learned to never bring up his father within his mother's hearing. Talking about George usually just made her cry, and when the tears dried up, annoyed. When the anger burnt out, leaving behind only ashes in her heart, she would go cold, closing herself off from the rest of the world – sometimes even literally, passing Jimmy off to Nana as she went into her room and locked the door.

Whenever that happened, Nana's eyes always followed her disapprovingly.

For a while their grandmother tried to talk to him about their dad, but before long it just felt awkward, especially after the few times Winona had walked in on them and locked herself away. Just after Sam turned seven, he quietly asked her to stop, feeling guilty at the dismay he could just tell she was feeling, even as he felt relieved he wouldn't have to worry about it anymore. It hurt enough, having him gone and Winona closing herself off. He didn't need more reasons to feel the sting of their absence.

Jimmy grew more and more capable by the day, and Sam was slowly growing into his role as an older brother. He and Nana would talk to Jimmy and play with him constantly, teaching him about the world and helping him grow into it. It would take time, but even this early Sam had a feeling that his brother was going to grow into somebody special.

* * *

Sam was twelve the first time Jimmy tried to fly. An unsettled feeling had been building all morning, but he paid it no mind, choosing instead to burn his way through his chores. In the end, his only warning was a yank in his gut, before the roof makes a creaking sound and a loud yell cuts the air only to end as a cry of pain. Sam was out the door, yelling for Nana before he even heard the thud, his heart in his throat. He rounded the corner of the house at a run only to stop short at the sight of Jimmy sprawled out on his back, right arm twisted at a weird angle that kind of made Sam want to throw up.

The part that stuck with him for years after wasn't the fact that his brother had just jumped off the roof and nearly died, or even the rather gruesome sight of his brother's broken arm that he miraculously wasn't screaming about. It's the fact that he's frowning up at the sky instead of crying, eyes darting back and forth as he mumbled, as if tracking something only he could see.

"What is _wrong_ with you Jimmy?!" He's yelling, and his little brother is looking at him in surprise, though all that does is make Sam yell even more. "Why would you jump off the _roof_? You could have _died_! You're _lucky_ all you broke was your arm! What if it had been your _neck_?!"

He heard the slam of the door behind him signalling that Nana had arrived, but his attention was locked on his _stupid_, too smart for his own good little brother. Jimmy just continued to frown at him, looking some combination of put out, startled, and frustrated.

"I just wanted to see if I could!" he burst out. His gaze shifted to over Sam's shoulder, and he knew it was directed at Nana. "I heard that falling could feel like flying, if you start high enough. I wanted to see what it was like to fly."

Behind Sam, Nana sighed, and Sam felt almost as if he'd missed something. She rested a hand on Sam's shoulder, before walking past him to carefully crouch down in front of Jimmy. She ran a hand through his hair as she looked over his broken arm. Her lips thinned, and she sighed again.

"Anything else hurt, Jimmy? You can feel your feet just fine?" she asked. At his shake of the head no then yes, she nodded. "Alright, let's get you up and to the hospital to get that arm fixed. No more jumping from the roof, you hear? It's okay to want to fly, just take care you don't become Icarus in your search for freedom."

Sam barely understood the reference - he was never as interested in the old tales as Nana and Jimmy were - but he understood enough. Jim looked up at Nana as she helped him to his feet, expression solemn as he tilted his head.

"Icarus tried to match the limits of his dreams instead of the limits of the wings and himself," he said, far too knowing and articulate for a six year old. "That was why he fell. I know my limits, so I'll never crash and burn."

The words sounded more like a promised declaration, rather than speculation, and despite himself Sam couldn't help but believe him. Still, Icarus no doubt believed the same, and a small part of Sam can't help but worry anyway, especially given the injury that made his brother wince with every step.

* * *

The Midwest was hotter in the twenty-third century than it was in the past. They'd learned this in school, learned about the mistakes of the nineteenth through twenty-first centuries, and how the capitalist practices of the time nearly destroyed everything. It was only after two near-plagues, a storm that took out the entire Gulf Coast, and a terrifying crop failure that people finally took the changing climate seriously.

Science stopped the climate from changing further, but it would take a lot longer for the effects to mellow out to what they used to be. So, Iowa was hot and dry year round, as dusty and settled as a windless desert. People had long drained the aquifers below the earth, so their main source of water was the dihydrogen factories scattered across the Midwest that manufactured and pumped out water to where it was needed. Iowa had always been a farming state though, so despite the lack of water, the heat, and the dust, they still grew crops in its soil - genetically engineered as they might be.

Sometimes Sam thought the whole situation made a great metaphor for humanity.

It was the middle of summer, so it was even hotter than normal, but Sam ignored the way his shirt clung to him like a second skin. He pointedly stayed outside, even as he panted quietly in the shade, sweat running down his neck and his lips cracking in the heat as his body continued warming slowly.

The screen door squeaked behind him, and Sam pointedly didn't look at whoever came through. The footsteps were almost silent, even on their creaky, ancient wooden porch. It was how Sam knew it was Jimmy, even without his brother saying anything.

His brother said nothing, merely creeping closer to press a glass of lemonade into his hand, the glass so cold against his flushed skin that Sam nearly dropped it at the sensation. His little brother hovered for a moment, before draping himself over Sam's back to press his nose into Sam's cheek. It was too hot for this, but Sam allowed it anyway, maybe even leaned back into the contact for a moment. A deep breath in and Jimmy was off of him again.

"Nana wants to talk to you," he said quietly to Sam's back. "She'll be out in a minute. Don't get too dehydrated."

The door squeaked again, and Sam was left to his own thoughts. He looked down at the glass of lemonade, and lifted it to his lips. It was just on the right side of too sugary, and its chill was a shock to his overheated system as it slid down his throat. Within seconds the glass was empty, so he fished out the ice and crunched down on that too before it melted.

Squeaking sounded again as he put down the glass, and this time he knew it was Nana. She stood in silence for a moment, before the sound of her inhale told him she was about to speak.

"Don't," he said before she could. "It's not your fault, it's hers for not caring enough that her own kid turned fourteen. I should have known better than to expect anything from her anymore, even if she did promise to be here for this birthday. She doesn't usually promise. That's why I thought this time might be different."

"Oh Sam," his grandmother sighed, lowering herself slowly down to sit beside him. "She cares, believe me. She loves you boys more than anyone else in this universe. But it isn't in her blood to stay, even when she should - she's a Vandal woman at heart, even if she's a Kirk by name."

"What do you mean?" He finally looked up at her, reluctantly curious in spite of his upset. Nana smiled wryly in return.

"We Vandals are well known for our wanderlust and curiosity. None of us have ever really been able to stay in one place for long; we all feel the pull of the unknown too strongly, sooner or later." She glanced over at him. "Your mother is like that too. Had things gone according to plan, you and Jimmy would have been raised among the stars, more likely than not."

"I thought it was Dad who wanted to stay in space," Sam said in surprise, eyes wide as he tried to make sense of the new revelation. "I thought that was why mom stayed up there so late into her pregnancy."

"Most people do, especially with the way things turned out." A flicker of grief passed through Nana's eyes before she continued. "Your father was a good man, beautiful and brilliant as the best of them. But his was a calmer sort of brilliance, the kind that could settle in and work quietly, even if there was a spark of rebellion in him. Your mother has always been wild at heart, and when she lets people see it, she shines bright as a supernova - like all Vandals have the potential to, though some choose not to. There's a certain kind of gravity about people like that, Sam, and it draws others in. It certainly was what drew your father in."

She was quiet for a moment, lost in thought. Countless memories flickered across her features, before she clasped her hands together and turned her attention back to Sam.

"George likely would have been happy leading a quiet life if he hadn't met Winona. He would have accomplished amazing things, no doubt, but ultimately would have lived life relatively unknown either on a research vessel or space station somewhere." She turned her eyes to the sky. "But Winona, well, she always wanted to be an explorer. And George, he was head over heels for her from their first meeting, and he knew there was no holding her back. If he wanted a chance with her, he was going to have to catch up. So he added a Command track specialty to his Science degree and worked hard to ensure he would be placed on the best exploring vessel in the Fleet, as he knew that your mother would end up nowhere else."

Her words prompted blurry memories of his father in Science blues and his mother in Engineering red - memories almost forgotten over time. He remembered the daredevil, stunning smile his mother used to wear, and the small curl of lips his father would inevitably get as he watched her. He remembered her wild laughter from their video calls, free in the way it was before it had the sharp edge it gained when George died. He thought he could understand how his father knew he could never tie Winona down.

As if she had been listening to his thoughts, Nana smiled, though it was tempered by the slight trace of old grief still lingering in her eyes.

"It took George nearly two years to catch her attention in return, and by then Winona could see that although it was quieter, his light was no less bright than hers. She fell quickly after that, and she fell into the pattern that Vandals have been in for as long as we can remember: we either find those who are willing to leave with us, or we find those worth staying for. As you probably guessed, she ended up finding the former."

Sam took that in for a moment, and couldn't help but wonder what that meant about him, Jimmy, and Nana, that his mother could leave them behind so easily. He thought that, if she asked, they'd all be willing to follow her to space. But maybe that was why she never asked. Glancing at his grandmother, he decided he wasn't sure he wanted to know.

"So it's her fault he's known as a hero then? All that misplaced fame is due to him just trailing after her?" His smile felt half teasing half serious, and Nana huffed a laugh, nodding. No doubt she was thinking the same thing as him - that the Admirals at Starfleet had a reason they sent her on such long missions to the other side of the galaxy. His mother was a force of nature, and if anyone was going to be going down in Starfleet history long-term, it would be her.

"She was the one who pulled him out into the black, not the other way around. I'd reckon that your brother's got the same sort of spirit in him, and that he'll either be trouble or get into it more often than not when he's a little older. He doesn't have much of a choice. He may look all Kirk, but he's got the soul of a Vandal, and I'd like to see the person who tries to tame him." Nana laughed a little, shaking her head. Sam smiled at that.

"Yeah, good luck to them. If he's anything like Mom, they'll need it." Nana smiled at him, before her expression turned serious again.

"You on the other hand, Sam, you've got more choices than he does. You've got all of our good looks, but you've got more Kirk in you than he does. You can choose how you want to live more easily, settle in or venture out." She sighed, voice coming out quieter than before, more solemn. "Remember to never let anyone take that choice away from you, because denying your soul is something that will kill you slowly."

There was nothing in her soft tone that was unusual, nothing to make Sam worry. But there was a sour, sinking feeling spreading through his stomach, and Sam glanced up at her with trepidation. In that moment, for the first time, he was struck by how _old_ Nana looked. Her age usually never showed, overwhelmed by her energy and personality. Suddenly he could see nothing _but_ her age in the lines of her face as she stared out into the hot, dusty expanse of land around them.

Feeling his attention, Nana looked back at him and smiled, the age of her features falling away again in the wake of her slight grin. Sam shook the feeling off, telling himself he was just seeing things, and leaned slightly into her side, mindful of the heat.

"Okay, Nana," he said quietly. "I'll remember."

* * *

In movies, funerals were always grey and rainy. In twenty-third century Iowa, Nana's was bright in the late August heat and stained the colors of the Midwest. It made the entire scene surreal, as if Nana would come waltzing in like a whirlwind to ask them all what they were doing.

Jimmy was steadfastly ignoring anyone and everything, only linking his fingers with Sam's own and staring stone-faced at the coffin. It was an expression too serious for an eight year old child, but somehow it fit. Mom wore a mirror image of it next to them, barely acknowledging the other attendants who were giving their well-wishes.

She had shown up a week after Nana died, having caught the fastest shuttle back to Earth. Honestly, it had been a relief that she'd shown up, for more reasons than her just being their mother. Their neighbors, who had taken them in for that week, had been smothering in their sympathy and expectations of tears. That wasn't how they dealt with tragedy in their family. They swore at it, drank to it, raged at it, but rarely cried. Only when their emotions were too strong to contain did they finally give in to tears.

The neighbors expected them to cry, but Mom didn't, and that made everything easier.

The funeral itself was a bit of a blur, and before long people were standing up and preparing to leave. They began to approach Sam and Jimmy, but upon being on the other side of both of their steely-eyed looks, they swerved in their path to talk to Winona instead.

Eventually even their mother got tired of dealing with the people, and they all just left despite the slightly judgemental stares of the stragglers. They pass through the rest of the day in disconnect, everything feeling slightly out of place - especially in Nana's house, where things still smelled like her perfume and she could almost walk out from around any corner.

Jimmy slept curled into Sam that night, the way he hadn't since he'd turned five. Sam, on the other hand, laid awake for several hours, listening to his little brother breathing. The sound of muffled clattering sounded below in the kitchen, catching Sam's attention. He glanced down at Jimmy and carefully extracted himself from his brother's grip.

"S'm?" he mumbled, mostly asleep still. Sam ran a hand through his hair.

"Go back to sleep, Jimmy. I'll be right back," he said softly. Jimmy made an unintelligible sound of agreement as he squirmed his way deeper into the blankets, simultaneously moving into the warmth of the spot Sam had just been laying in. Sam shook his head; he'd have to sleep on the other side when he got back, now that his spot was taken.

He turned and slipped out of the room, taking care to mask his footsteps as he went. It took some careful stepping over creaky spots on the floor, but before long Sam was at the edge of the kitchen peering in from around the corner.

His mother was standing at the counter with her arms braced against it, head ducked down between them. Every line of her body was rigid, but she gave off an overall air of weariness. An untouched glass of what Sam knew to be whiskey sat in front of her, though given by the slightly lower level of the liquid in the bottle, she'd already had several drinks.

Sam knew his mother wouldn't cry, no matter how long he sat and watched her. That wasn't Winona's way, not really. Not unless it involved his father, anyway. Instead she hardened up, closed off, and eventually did her best to release the tension bit by bit. At fourteen, even Sam knew that wasn't the healthiest method of dealing with things, but it was what his mother did, and he couldn't imagine her any other way.

He stood there another long minute, before he heard his mother sigh, lifting a hand up to her face pinch the bridge of her nose. Then he turned back around and crept his way upstairs, climbing over Jimmy into the bed to go back to sleep. He fully ignored the heavy, coiling feeling inside him as he pressed his nose into Jimmy's hair while his little brother pressed back into the new warmth behind him.

Things would be fine.

* * *

Sam didn't like Frank.

As soon as the man walked through the door, Sam was on guard and already shifting to get between him and the nine year old Jimmy. His eyes darted between his mother, who had led the man into their house, and the stranger he didn't trust. His mother kicked off her shoes by the door as the man took off his jacket and hung it up on the hook in the entryway. Jimmy had gone quiet behind him, no doubt watching the pair as mistrustfully as Sam was. The kid was still too smart for his own good, and usually had great instincts when it came to people.

"Boys, meet Frank," Winona said tiredly, putting her things away without glancing at them. "We're together, and he's going to be staying with us for awhile."

It was a good thing that Sam was stunned silent by the information, otherwise he would have said multiple things that would have gotten him in trouble with his mother. As it was, he and Jimmy exchanged a look, before they both watched the man walk into the living room. Frank didn't look at them, which for some reason pleased Sam.

He'd overheard some of the adults in town talk about how unnerving it was when 'those two Kirk boys' chose to stare someone down when they were annoyed, comparing them to 'a pair of wolves just waiting for you to stumble'. In that moment, he hoped that statement was true.

Frank settled into the sofa across the room and their mother decided to get both of them a glass of water from the kitchen, leaving them alone for several minutes. There was a tense silence, despite the disinterest from on party, and two sets of eyes drilled into the man from across the room.

"So, which one of you is Jimmy, and which of you is George?"

The tone was disinterested, but Frank looked over at them for the first time anyway. At both his tone and his words, both boys bristled. Sam was almost willing to just stay silent, but then Jimmy spoke up instead.

"Only family calls me Jimmy, and nobody calls him _George_," he said softly, and Sam was almost surprised to hear the ice-coated steel underlying his tone. He'd never heard his brother sound like that before, but it seemed fitting for it to be there in that moment. "It's James, and he's Sam."

"But I'm almost family," Frank responded, his eyes narrowing in displeasure as he met Jimmy's gaze. Sam instinctively shifted so that he was a little further in front of his brother at the expression. "I'm with your mom, aren't I? And I have a feeling I'll be around for a while, so better get used to me, kid."

Before either of them could shoot back a response, Winona comes back into the room with two glasses of water, handing off one of them to Frank. The conversation ended there, with a sour twist deep in the pit of Sam's stomach as he followed Jimmy in slipping almost silently out of the room. He didn't like it, but his mother was the most stubborn person he'd ever known. If she wanted this, there'd be almost no talking her out of it - besides which, they had no real reason to dislike Frank yet, giving them almost nothing to stand on.

He ended up saying nothing.

* * *

Sam was all but shaking as he tore apart his room. Red tinged the edges of his vision as he threw clothes and other necessities into a duffle bag. He wanted to punch something, wanted it to hurt. Wanted whatever or whoever he punched to hurt as much as he did at the motion, if not more.

But no, this was more important. He was finally eighteen as of last week, could legally work and was no longer a minor. He could get out of this stupid house finally, and away from that _man_ who his mother had left him with. He could do it, he could leave and never see that man's ugly mug ever again. He was ready to - had been ready for a year now.

Aside from his age, the only thing that had made his hands pause every time he reached this point before was his brother. He couldn't bear the thought of leaving him behind, but . . . things would already be difficult enough having to figure out how to care for him as well. Now that he was eighteen, he could also potentially be charged with kidnapping his younger brother, as he wasn't Jimmy's legal guardian, despite Sam's subtle attempts to change that over the past year and a half.

He didn't _want _to leave Jimmy behind with that man, but he wasn't seeing many other options. Besides, Frank's verbal abuse had always been focused on Sam himself, driven mostly by his resentment of George Sr. - who Sam apparently was a lot like, and who his mother still missed. Jimmy had done well to stay out of his attention for the most part - especially as he was getting to be pretty moody at twelve due to a multitude of things.

The duffle felt full but not heavy when he finally swung it onto his shoulder. This was already further than Sam had ever gotten before, and somehow he knew then that this time it wasn't a practice run like all the others had become. This one was the last time, the final scene. Sam cast his gaze around his childhood room, taking in the familiar color of the walls, the bed he'd had for years and sometimes still shared with his brother, the odd bits and pieces of his personality scattered across surfaces in a believable impression of organization. It felt weird to leave it behind, but staying was impossibly worse.

His eyes ended on his desk, tucked into the corner by a window, where a rare paper pamphlet was set out. Striding over to it, Sam picked it up. This was the next best thing he could do for his brother, if he had to leave. A way to engage his genius brain and help him get out of the house. Riverside had always been too small for the two of them, much less how small it would get without them both pushing at its constraints.

Sighing, Sam forced his anger to calm down so he could think clearly. If these were to be his last minutes in the house, he didn't want to leave it furious.

Pamphlet in hand, he stalked his way down the hall into his brother's room. He peered inside, and didn't know whether to be relieved or disappointed that Jimmy wasn't in there. Glancing down at the pamphlet again, Sam steeled himself and placed it on his little brother's desk along with the note he'd written explaining everything, ignoring the heavy nausea trying to make itself known.

Forcing himself to turn away, Sam left the room and silently made his way downstairs, cautiously listening out for Frank. From the lack of noise in the living room, it seemed like Frank had shut himself up in Winona's room for the time being. That was fine, and it made things so much easier.

Sam reached the front door uninterrupted, slipping out with nothing but a quiet click and a sigh of hinges, years of practice helping him avoid the creak and squeaking groan the doors usually let out. When the screen door finally latched again behind him, Sam closed his eyes, sighing himself as he pressed his forehead to the door.

"So, guess this is really it then."

His eyes shot open at the voice a few feet to his right on the porch. Whipping his head around, Sam stared at Jimmy with wide eyes. His little brother was perched sideways on the railing, back against a post and one leg hanging down over the mix of agave and lavender that made up their garden - some of the only plants that could handle the lack of water and the heat.

"Jimmy, I -" Sam started, before his little brother cut him off, much to his guilty relief.

"Don't. I get it." His expression was closed off, unreadable for the first time in years as he studied Sam. "I heard the argument from out here, and was about to step in when you took off upstairs. The look on your face was different this time. Before you've always just seemed angry, and I knew you'd stay. This time you just looked done, so I knew you were actually going through with it."

Sam didn't know what to say to that. He hadn't realized that Jimmy had known about all the other aborted attempts at leaving, though now he thought that was ridiculous. His brother was just as smart as Sam himself, if not smarter, and it made _perfect sense_ that he'd figure it out. It also made sense that he'd figured out it was just Sam who was going, made clear by him looking out over their front yard, blank-faced.

"Jimmy, you know I don't -" he started, only to stop and change sentences partway through. "You know that I lo-"

"Yeah, I know." His little brother's voice was as blank as his expression, and he glanced sideways at Sam through the fringe of his hair. "Frank's not going to stay in Mom's room forever. If you're leaving, you'd better do it before he comes looking. You'll never get away then, with all the fuss he'll cause."

"Right," Sam said, almost dazed and feeling heavily unbalanced as his insides twisted.

He tightened his grip on his duffle bag. This was exactly why he hadn't wanted to do this in person. It was so much harder to leave Jimmy when his brother, his little brother, was right in front of him and so clearly hurt despite his best efforts to hide it. But they were Kirks. They only closed off like this when they were pissed or hurting, and Sam knew his brother well enough by now to know that it was both.

"I left something for you on your desk," he commented, as a pathetically underwhelming peace offering. "It's worth looking at, and it would help you get away from _him_ sooner. Just - think about it?"

"Sure," Jimmy replied, still not looking at him. Sam sighed, and he really did have to leave now. He'd memorized the bus schedules years ago, and the next one was due in half an hour. By foot, it would take him twenty minutes to reach the station.

"Take care of yourself, little brother," he said quietly, stepping forward with a hand out to wrap around Jimmy's shoulders out of habit, before faltering and letting his hand fall. "This isn't forever. As soon as I'm financially stable, I'll be trying to get custody of you from that bastard. I'll fight even Mom if I have to. Please just wait a little longer for me."

Jimmy was silent, and Sam sighed again, before forcing himself to turn and walk down the steps to the road. He had made it several yards away when Jimmy's voice caused him to stop and turn back for a moment.

"Sam," his little brother called, eyes intense and arresting all of Sam's attention. "Stay safe."

That was what he said, but what Sam heard and saw in his brother was _I love you. Don't leave. Be careful. Be smart._ He sucked in a sharp breath, feeling a prickling in his eyes, and whipped back around before his brother could see him cry.

"Right. You too. Don't let me hear about you jumping off the roof again."

There was a soft huff behind him, and oh, Sam wanted to stay with his brother so badly. But he forced his feet to move, knowing that he'd have to walk pretty fast now, to catch the bus on time. Jimmy would be okay until he got on his feet enough to plead for custody. Frank didn't pay him much mind, so long as he stayed out of his hair, and Jimmy was smart enough to figure out a way to make things easier until Sam could come get him.

Besides, he would have the pamphlet too, Sam thought, pushing down the nausea that rose with every step he took from the house. It was just nerves, both about what he was doing and about being separated from Jimmy. His brother would be fine - especially if he asked their mother to send him to the developing research colony where their dad's brother and his family lived.

Jimmy would do just fine, living on Tarsus IV, Sam told himself amidst the twisting he felt inside. It would only take him a year at most to raise enough funds, then they'd be together again and wouldn't have to worry about a thing.

* * *

"Hey, sorry love, but we have to cancel that trip we were planning. . . . Yeah, my sister just called, and I really need to get to Almasi Station - our father has been hospitalized there. . . . I'm doing okay, it hasn't fully sunk in yet. . . . Listen, you can't repeat this to anybody, since I signed an NDA and all, but he's your father too in all but name and even that will be changed soon, so you deserve to know. There was a famine on a recent colony he was working at, the one on Tarsus IV I told you about? Some messed up stuff happened as a result, and over half the colony ended up dying. I -"

Sam staggered up from his seat, nearly colliding with the woman's table behind him as he turned to face her, his work forgotten on the table behind him. The woman jolted, eyes wide as he looked her in the eye, her hand clutching the bottom of her hijab defensively at whatever manic look he was sporting.

"Did you just say Tarsus IV?" Sam demanded, heart in his throat. "Please, I have to know."

"I - I'm afraid I can't say. I signed an agreement . . ." she stuttered in response. The tinny sound of a voice came from the speaker of the communicator at her ear and she glanced away from Sam for a moment. "I'm sorry, Lesedi, I'll call you back in a minute. . . . I love you too."

Her fingers swiped across the communicator screen, turning it transparent again, and she folded it up into a tiny square and tucked it into her pocket before looking up again. Sam was doing his best to restrain himself, but he was practically shaking as he waited for her attention to return.

"Please," he whispered, as her eyes met his again. "My little brother should have been in that colony. He just turned fourteen, I need to know. Were you talking about Tarsus IV, the planet in the Auveria system?"

The woman's eyes softened with sorrow as he explained himself, and her tense demeanor became relaxed again as she realized the cause of his sudden intensity. The expression was an answer itself, but Sam needed to hear her say it, for there to be no doubt about which planet exactly she was talking about.

"I'm so sorry," she said softly. "Yes, that is the planet. You shouldn't have had to hear it from me - or even at all. If you're listed as a contact, they'll likely be reaching out to you soon. There's still a lot of processing currently, trying to figure out who made it, getting them care, and reaching out to all of their families. I hope your brother made it, for both of your sakes."

Sam wasn't sure what he responded, everything too numb to process. He barely registered the change in location as he put his stuff away and staggered his way outside, eyes scanning frantically for the nearest transmission booth. He found one and stepped inside, the glass darkening on the outside to give him privacy as he swiped his access card and punched in the code he's known by heart for years.

His mother's face came on screen shortly after, and he barely stopped to register the surprise in her expression before he spoke, voice cracking in his guilt and terror.

"Is Jimmy okay?" He must have looked like a mess, because it made even his mother pause as she looked at him wide-eyed. "Please, just let me know if he's okay, that he made it. I can talk to you about what happened with me later, just please tell me."

"Sam," his mother said, frowning. "I don't know what you're talking about. Why would I know about Jimmy when he's with you and Frank back in Iowa? What's going on? Is everything alright?"

Every bone in Sam's body went cold, and he could feel his body straining to hyperventilate, even as he forced the reaction down, needing answers more than emotional release in that moment. He stared at his mother in horror as her concern grew the longer he stayed silent.

"Mom," he croaked. "I haven't been in Iowa for nearly sixteen months. Frank didn't tell you? Jimmy isn't there either. He - he sent me a message a while ago. Nothing much, just a sentence saying that he made it onto the Tarsus IV colony safely and that he was with Uncle Henry, Aunt Nerethia, and the kids. He - you should have needed to sign the permissions for him to go off world, and even to apply. How come you don't know about this?"

His mother's face darkened like a thundercloud, and she spun around to pick up a PADD off a counter to her left. Her fingers flew across the screen, and Sam realized she was hacking at least one system if not two. The thunderous look tempered a bit as she found an answer.

"My signature was forged on several documents - both in writing and digitally. Either Jimmy or Frank must have done it," she sighed, putting the PADD down, and pinching the bridge of her nose. "Judging by how clean the coding was on the digital one, though, my money's on Jimmy."

"Seriously, Jimmy?" Sam sighed, before the sharp biting terror slowly seeped back into his system, at the same time his mother realized that the explanation still hadn't answered the question about what was wrong.

"Sam," his mother said slowly. "Why were you so worried about Jimmy when you called? What happened?"

"I just found out from overhearing a conversation," Sam said, voice breathy from fear. "There was a famine in the colony. Over half the people died - they aren't giving out a lot of information yet, and apparently people are having to sign NDAs and everything. Nobody's called you yet? You're the only other person listed as his emergency contact, and I've heard nothing."

Winona blanched, and immediately snatched the PADD back up. He heard her voice in the background, before the tenuous grasp he had on his panic was lost, and the wave of guilt he had been feeling washed over him. He was the one who had left his little brother, the one who had suggested he go to Tarsus. He hadn't checked in as much as he should have, hadn't questioned the decline in responses, even when they weren't coming anymore.

"What do you mean, he _left_?!" His mother's shout jolted Sam back out of his thoughts, and he looked up to see that his mother had the look on her face she got when she was about to verbally tear authority figures to shreds. "... So not only are you _completely_ incapable of carrying out tasks fit for a _toddler_, but you also are utterly incapable of basic logic and thought processes. If you _lost a passenger_ after docking, then you _look at the security feeds_ to figure out where they went! You also don't _fail to report_ the discrepancy to those in charge!"

There was a muted sound of someone's voice on the other side of the communicator, and Sam quickly realized what had happened. Some boy - his mother clearly hoping it was Jimmy, as was Sam now - had been on one of the rescue ships and had then disappeared after reaching the nearest space station where they were processing everyone.

"Oh, don't even bother," Winona snapped to the person on the other end, the communicator tucked into her shoulder so she could use both hands to work her PADD. "I'll do it myself. I wouldn't trust anything you did anyway at this point. You're clearly incompetent at your job, I'm not leaving this in your hands for even a second. I'd start looking for alternate employment, by the way. I'm reporting this to your superior, and I will personally ensure that you don't last the week."

She promptly hung up on the person on the other end and tossed the communicator away. It took her some time to pull up the right feeds, and then to sort through them for ones that would show her what she wanted. At one point she glanced at Sam, and suddenly the screens she was looking at were on display for him to view as well. He barely had time to register the multiple video feeds - the _supposedly secure_ video feeds - of the station, before his mother was enlarging one of them.

They watched in silence as survivors were brought off the ship, waiting as one by one they emerged onto the station platform. Winona looked like she was about to switch feeds again when a final pair showed up, a man with short dark hair in a yellow shirt, accompanied by a skeleton of a teenager. Sam sucked in a breath at the same time as his mother.

Jimmy was almost unrecognizable, he was so bedraggled and thin. It was hard to overlay the almost-thirteen year old Sam remembered with the barely-fourteen year old on the screen. Most striking of all though was his expression. His eyes looked dead, his expression a hardened blankness Sam had never seen before. It broke his heart, and if his brother was right in front of him, Sam knew he would latch onto him and never let him leave again.

"He ended up in a medical ward on one of the Lunar colonies." At his mother's voice, Sam glanced away from the image and realized that while he'd been staring at his brother she had been tracking him using the other feeds and no small amount of intuition. "That was the closest he could get to Earth before getting caught, apparently. The medic of the ship he slipped away on caught him and made him submit himself to medical treatment. He's been there for about a week now."

Sam's brain whirled, already calculating how much transport to the colony would cost. It was too much, especially with the ongoing communication being charged to his account as well. He felt like cursing. He already left Jimmy longer than he had promised to - left him in general, actually - and then suggested that he go to Tarsus. Now he couldn't even go be with Jimmy while his brother was recovering from that ordeal.

"His records say that he isn't up for much human interaction right now," Winona commented, eyes still on her screen, but no doubt having picked up the growing dismay in Sam. "He's deeply suspicious of authority figures and adults in general at the moment, and has already had several violent outbursts. There's more, but overall, I think it would be best to wait to see him until he's a bit more settled. That'll give him some time to readjust, and you some time to wrap things up at your job."

Everything about that statement sent Sam's insides twisting. He hated that idea, hated it with a passion. He didn't want to stay away from Jimmy, not now. Not when they almost lost him, and it was nearly his own fault.

But this wasn't about him.

"...Sure," he agreed weakly. "Okay. If you - you and the doctors - think it's best. But I'll only give you a month. Then I'll be doing my best to get out of my work contract and come home, with or without your approval. He's still my _brother_."

"That sounds reasonable," his mother says, sighing in relief. He can see the purple smudges under her eyes, and the way her hair is a little more tangled than normal. This is wearing on her just as much as him, even if she isn't showing it very much. "I couldn't expect more, you two have always been close. I was actually expecting to have to fight you more on this."

"I want nothing more than to come home immediately, but this is about what's best for Jim," Sam says, stomach roiling in discomfort with the idea, his every instinct telling him to hang up and hitchhike all the way back to Iowa if he has to. "I'll come back when he's ready for more people."

* * *

Sam already knew the house was empty as soon as he walked into town. He wasn't sure exactly how he knew, just that there was a hollow mundaneness permeating Riverside - and it only got stronger the closer he got to Nana's house.

Sure enough, when he walked up the dirt driveway to the front porch, it was clear that the house had been empty for a while. It took him a long moment to fully comprehend what that meant, before a distinct feeling of terror and betrayal swept through him like a tsunami. Jimmy was gone again, and his mother wasn't here anymore. They were both _gone_, and hadn't _told _him.

It wasn't until he reached out to unlock the door to the house that Sam realized his hands were shaking. He had no idea if it was from fear or hurt or anger, but he was shaking.

Stepping into the house felt like stepping into the past. He'd grown up so much since he'd left this place, and he felt too big to fit and all too small to belong, all at once. There had been several changes in the nearly-two years since he'd left. Subtle changes in the placement of items, subtle shifts in the smell of the house.

He wandered up the stairs towards Jimmy's room, almost afraid to push open the door once he was there. Sam held his breath as the door pushed open with the quietest of squeaks. His little brother's room was as obnoxiously tidy and organized as ever , save for the surface of his desk, where there were several new half-finished projects - messes of twisted wires, soldered metal, and circuit boards that Sam couldn't make heads or tails of.

Making his way across the room, Sam sat down in the desk chair, looking over the mess of creations until something prompted him to open the top drawer of the desk. Inside, there wasn't much. Multiple empty notebooks (Sam had never really understood Jimmy's love for old fashioned things), some spare pens and pencils, a PADD or two. However, underneath all of that was the crinkled corner of a page that Sam reached for before he even realized what he was doing.

At the sight of it, he sucked in a sharp breath. It was the pamphlet he had left behind - the one for the Tarsus colony and it's experimental program. It had a small hole through the top that told Sam it had been hung up on the wall at some point, even though it was now tucked away. It was also now crumpled, as if it had been scrunched into a ball before being smoothed out again, and its edges were worn, as if someone had handled it repeatedly.

What must Jimmy have thought, looking at it? He could have thrown it away at any point after his return, but he didn't. Instead, it seemed like he'd tried to, then taken it out and looked at it over and over again. Sam felt his heart grow heavier with every thought, and he eventually had to drop the page and look away. It was only then that he realized that the drawer was deeper on the outside than it seemed to be on the inside. He blinked at it once, and then again.

_This kid_. Why was he surprised that his brother had a false-bottomed drawer in his desk? It's _exactly _the kind of thing he would do.

It took Same several moments and several attempts to figure out how to open the rest of the drawer. What he saw when he finally managed to remove it was a white box and a pile of unopened packages. Taking them out and setting them on the desk, Sam realized that the packages were all high-density nutrient bars. They were similar to protein bars, except they had enough nutrition packed into them that you could live off of them if need be and get all the calories and nutrients you'd need. Each bar could last a person three days, if they were being conservative, since the nutrients were so dense in this version of them. With the amount here, there was at least enough to last a month, if not more.

Sam grimaced, wondering if his mother had picked up on the fact that Jimmy had been more or less hoarding food while they were still here. It was completely understandable, if not entirely healthy for his recovery progress. But Jimmy was good at hiding things from people when he really wanted to - always had been. The only person he'd never been able to fool reliably had been Sam, since he'd memorized all of his brother's tells long ago - and he knew the same was true in reverse, too.

Moving his attention to the box, Sam picked it up and saw what he'd missed before: a faded red cross on the top. _Oh_. This was their Nana's medkit, and now that he had context for it, Sam recognized it immediately. Between Jimmy and himself, Nana had brought this box out plenty of times throughout their childhood - all with Jimmy-approved, allergen-free medicines. Sam stared at it, trying to figure out why Jimmy had felt the need to hide it away in his room. Part of him wondered if it was also related to his time on Tarsus, something about being prepared for any scenario, but a part of him worried it was more than that.

Afterall, the only things that seemed to have been used were the antibiotic cream, band-aids, and the bruise cream. Out of all of them, the bruise cream was the emptiest, and though Jimmy was reckless, he wasn't usually clumsy enough to need it for healing's sake.

That he would be using it so frequently meant that either he had been getting badly injured while Sam was away, or that he had been trying to hide minor injuries - and Sam wasn't terribly fond of either explanation.

Unable to stand thinking about it much longer, he dropped everything back into the drawer, pushing away from the desk as he stood. He cast a glance around the rest of the room, noting the increased number of actual paper books and the increase in their difficulty, the sneakers his brother could never seem to get rid of even though they were falling apart, the printed photographs on the walls that he'd taken over the years.

The tight feeling in his throat grew, and he had to get out.

Clattering his way down the stairs, he burst his way out of the screen door, panting for air as he leaned against the porch railing. His eyes clenched shut as he tried to regain control of his emotions. Sam didn't know how long he stood there just breathing, before he forced himself to straighten up. Without any real purpose, he made his way to the road and just started walking, unable to stand being near the house any longer.

"Sam Kirk, is that you?"

Looking up, he realized he had almost made it to the main town. Across the street was an old neighbor of theirs who used to babysit him and Jimmy whenever Nana wanted a night off. They were a few years older than Sam was, just enough to be something close to a friend even though they were in charge of him and Jimmy.

"August Martinez," he said, lips twitching into some semblance of a smile as they darted across the road toward him. "I haven't seen you in a while - since your family moved out of that house, right?"

They laughed a little in response, brown eyes crinkling as they brushed their hair out of their face with a sun-darkened hand. Something about the sound was soothing, easing some of the tension in Sam's shoulders.

"That's right. Wow, I hadn't realized it had been so long," they mused, before flashing their smile at Sam again. "What're you doin' back in town, stranger? Heard you caught a bus south a few years back."

The tension came back, as did the lump in his throat.

"I came back to help with Jimmy," he responded quietly, seeing August's smile fade a bit at the reply. "I tried to come back five months ago, but my boss threatened legal action if I broke my work contract early - I was stupid to sign it in the first place, but I was desperate to get money so that I could try and get Jimmy to come live with me."

"To get him away from your stepdad, right? I get it," August said quietly expression solemn now. And they did. August had unfortunately been witness to several arguments they'd had with Frank, and the distaste between all three of them had been evident to anyone with working eyes. "And then you had to come home to an empty house. That can't have been fun."

"What happened to them?" Sam asked, internally wincing at the slightly desperate tone to his voice. "Mom and Jimmy were supposed to still be here when I arrived, where did they go?"

"I don't know the specifics," August said, clearly apologetic, "but your mama left town two weeks ago in a Starfleet transport. She's probably in space again by now. And your brother, well. Old Man Williams says he saw him takin' the first bus out of Riverside only hours later. He was apparently carryin' a full backpack, and had the look of a person leavin' for good."

Sam let out a sharp breath at that. Two weeks. He'd missed them both by _two weeks_. At least with Jimmy, it seemed like his mother hadn't known - she'd never let him take off to Wherever at almost-fifteen by himself. But his mother . . . Starfleet trips didn't just happen. She had to have been planning this for a while now, and it hadn't even been a year since Jimmy's ordeal. _And she hadn't told him_.

"Did he seem better?" Sam asked, glancing up at August again, from where his eyes had fallen. "Jimmy, did he seem happy to you?"

"I don't know exactly what happened," they replied slowly, eyes sympathetic. "Neither of them would talk about it, and it wasn't my place to ask. But he came back lookin' like a walking corpse without a purpose, and left determined if a bit grim. Somewhere along the way he got some life back."

Sam sighed, running a rough hand through his hair. It wasn't the best news, but it was honestly better than he had hoped, after seeing that image of his brother walking off that ship several months ago. Seeming to sense this, August spoke up again, their voice soft.

"James didn't come into town at all that first month, and even after that, not very often. But once he did, he always did his best to smile and laugh as before. I'm not sure anyone else noticed, since none of you Kirks and Vandals really let people see, but his eyes were dead the entire time." August paused, unusually hesitant, before continuing. "But towards the end, whenever he thought nobody was lookin' . . . Well, I always thought that he looked like he was so alive that it hurt."

The news shouldn't have been as reassuring as it was, but August knew his family well enough by now to know how to handle them. Jimmy seemed to have regained his ability to live in the short months since he'd come home. Alive and hurting was better than a shell of a person any day, because that meant there was hope. Sam still wished he could even be there, even if he couldn't help and all he could be was another person in Jimmy's corner.

"Tell you what," August suddenly interrupted, their eyes narrowed on Sam thoughtfully. "Give me your PADD ID. I have an idea of somethin' I want to send you. Seems to me a lot of your life recently hasn't exactly been yours, and I think this might help some by adding a sense of normallcy to everythin'. Even if it doesn't, I'll still have it on hand so I can send you a message if James ever comes back into town."

Sam blinked, but rattled off the number, and soon enough he heard a quiet _ping_ from his bag.

"I've got to go help my folks out at the ranch, since they'll be expectin' me back any time now, but take care of yourself, Sam." August stepped forward to give Sam a quick but tight hug. "Really consider what I sent you. I think you could truly gain somethin' from it, knowin' you, if you're willin' to at least give it a try. You deserve to be happy too, don't forget that."

With that, August sent Sam a final wave, before they turned back down the road and walked away. Sam wandered around town for a little while longer, but there was nothing to really distract him, and his curiosity about August's suggestion was getting to be too strong, so he turned around and walked back to Nana's house.

Once he was home, he opened up his PADD. There was a link in his messages, from August. He saved the PADD number into his contacts then returned to the message. Tapping on the link, he saw that it took him to a website application. Specifically, an application for the best university on the East Coast. It was a relatively new one compared to some of the pre-warp ones still in existence, funded by Starfleet shortly after the Federation had been formed.

Without really knowing why, he began filling out the information, not even needing to look up any of his results, having memorized them all years ago. Within the hour, he was staring at a complete application, complete with a short essay.

Sam took a deep breath, staring at the screen. He couldn't deny that a large part of him wanted to do everything he could to track down his brother, or even try to contact his mother again. But he'd been chasing after them for years, either literally or metaphorically. He had no idea if he was making yet another mistake, but at almost twenty-one, he needed to do something just for himself for the first time since he was a kid. Something that wasn't just for the sake of his own wellbeing; something that he did just because he _wanted_ too and let himself have.

His hand hovered over the PADD for just a moment longer before he hit submit.

* * *

He met Aurelan a year into his studies, though he didn't really pay much attention to her when they officially first met. She was simply another face in the crowds that filled his lecture halls, familiar enough to warrant remembering, though not enough to stand out any more than that. She blended in, until she didn't.

Aurelan had a subtle beauty, and Sam thought that was part of what ended up finally catching his attention, ironically enough. She didn't immediately stand out as jaw-droppingly gorgeous, but it grew into your awareness until you could no longer deny that she was breathtaking.

At least, that was what happened to Sam.

As they _had_ already shared multiple xenobiology courses together, he hadn't expected it in the slightest. It was only when he finally got around to taking the xenobotany lab course that met twice a week that he finally got to know her as a friend more than just a familiar face. She was an absolute _nerd_ when it came to plants, it turned out, and Sam often found himself lingering in their shared lab after finishing the assignment just to listen to her talk about them, much to the consternation of the TA. She got this look on her face, as if she was just _dying_ to figure out everything that made planets around the universe tick, all the way from the base of the food web. Her hands would gesture animatedly as she described some of the amazing things she'd seen plants do, and Sam found it was impossible to not watch her.

It took him only two months and a few shared study sessions outside of lab to realize that he'd fallen in love.

Another two was all it took for him to accidentally blurt it out in the middle of one of her rants, as the TA buried his head deeper into his textbook, clearly wanting to be anywhere but there at the moment. Aurelan looked at him in surprise, before smiling widely.

"I had expected that confession to take another three months, at least," she laughed. At his look of surprise, she laughed again. "You weren't subtle, Sam. _Nobody_ listens to my ranting that long, much less staying to hear more. For the record, in case it wasn't clear, I love you too."

From there it didn't take long for them to become practically glued at the hip, no longer Sam and Aurelan but _SamandAurelan_. It was also while spending time with her that Sam figured out he had a real knack for pathogens and fungi. Fungi weren't plants (though on several planets there were a few varieties that blurred the lines), but they were, in Aurelan's words, 'almost cousins' to her beloved flora, so she occasionally veered into discussing them as well. He tended to find those the most interesting, in addition to the responses Aurelan mentioned her plants had to pathogens.

Plants could isolate a disease and keep it from spreading to the rest of themselves by killing off that section of their cells. They could _remember_ physical harm they underwent and not only prepare themselves for it in the future, but also develop warning systems for other plants in the area. (Sam was a little disturbed by the fact that the smell of the freshly-mown grass he sometimes smelled around campus was actually basically the grass screaming in pain.)

Described like that, it was almost impossible to not be intrigued by Aurelan's passions, and then combine them with his own growing ones.

(If every time he saw the word 'pathogen' and looked at a spore under a microscope, he was reminded of Jimmy, that was merely a coincidence. If deciding to become an expert on fungi and pathogens helped ease the guilt he felt of leaving his brother behind, then it was nobody's business but his own. If thinking about his future as a xenobotanist focusing on pathogenic crop failure with a specialty in fungus simply _felt _right to him, inexplicably, then he wouldn't even acknowledge it to himself fully.)

He passed the days watching Aurelan in awe as his fingers adjusted microscopes and tended to his specimens. One day he watched her tuck a strand of hair behind her ear as they filled out applications for a research trip, and a vague memory suddenly surfaced, from before Jimmy was born. It was of his father sitting with him on the couch, watching his mother dance around the kitchen. _Sammy, your momma's family may be wild as the wind - even when it comes to love, unable to settle until they hand someone their anchor. But we Kirks, we tend to truly love only once, and fall hard and fast. When we find our person, that's it for us. One day you'll figure out what I mean, and understand_.

And yeah, he thought, watching her. He thought he did.

* * *

He married Aurelan on the planet Trirea during the research trip, in what was their equivalent of summer. It felt like a milder version of Iowa's own, but it was close enough that he almost felt like he was home. Aurelan didn't mind the heat either, having grown up off-world on a rather hot planet whose colony she called home.

His mother and Jimmy didn't make it to their small, unorthodox ceremony.

Apparently his mother was in deep space on a mission, and an electron cloud made communication a little fritzy, according to the Admiral who had picked up on his attempts to contact her and finally took action. Jimmy was who knows where, and Sam had long ago given up on ever being able to find him of his own accord. If his little brother wanted to be found, he would be, and until then all Sam could do was hope.

"You seem sad," Aurelan commented from her place in front of him, her arms holding onto his where they were wrapped around her waist. She was wearing a sundress instead of a wedding dress, and its fringes were slightly grimy from where she'd knelt down in the dirt to exclaim over a flower she saw on their way to the small ceremony they'd had with their friends (he himself was wearing dusty boots and a flannel shirt). Sam still thought that she'd never looked more beautiful, and thought that Nana would have laughed at their rebellion of tradition, calling him a proper Vandal man.

"I'm the happiest I've ever been," he told her truthfully, pressing his lips to the spot just below her ear as he rested his chin on her shoulder, staring up at the unfamiliar constellations above with her. She hummed at that, shifting slightly so that she could press a kiss of her own to his jaw with a slight smile.

"That's not what I meant, but I'm glad." She turned her attention back to the stars for a moment, sinking back into him again. "The stars remind you of them, don't they? You wish they were here for this."

"Yes," he admitted quietly, unable and unwilling to lie to her. "Mom and Jimmy . . . they've always been different than the rest of the world. Larger than life, and unable to sit still for long without going stir-crazy. I'm used to it with Mom not being able to stay, but - I guess, when I was younger, I thought that Jimmy and I could have been each other's reasons to stay, and every now and then it sinks in that we weren't. Aren't. And that I was the one to leave first, so that I can't be mad at him for choosing to stay gone."

"You can still be sad about it though," his wife - _wife_, what an astonishing, amazing word - replied knowingly. "And you're still allowed to miss him. He's your brother, and you love him, even though the two of you clearly need to sit down and have a long talk about everything."

"Yeah," he huffed in wry amusement. There was a long moment of silence before Aurelan next spoke.

"Now, you may have been used to it as a kid, but don't you dare go taking off for the stars all the time when the time arrives for you to be a role model," she said lightly, putting on of his hands on her lower abdomen. "If they turn out to be anything like you or your brother, I refuse to raise them without help."

It took Sam an embarrassingly long moment to realize what Aurelan was implying, and promptly it felt like his brain shut down. He blinked, frozen, before he shifted slightly to peer down at his wife's currently-flat stomach.

"You're . . ." he trailed off, almost afraid that if he asked the question, it would make it untrue. At Aurelan's beaming smile, he was helpless to fight off his own incredulous one. He laughed in disbelief, hugging her tighter to him, though keeping his hand light where she still had it pressed to her abdomen. "I never thought I'd ever - I just - I hope you know that I'm absolutely terrified."

"You'll do fine," his wife laughed at him. "So long as you leave the naming sense to me. I heard that _your _family almost named you Pertinax, and tried to call your brother Tiberius. And _he _still got stuck with it as a middle name."

"Anything you want," Sam laughed breathily, fighting against the watering of his eyes. Then he paused, taking in her earlier words. "Please tell me you were using the singular 'they' simply because you don't know the biological sex yet."

His wife's only response was a laugh and an enigmatic smile, and despite his worries, Sam knew he wouldn't trade any of this for the world.

For the first time in years, he felt settled, and somewhere deep inside, he knew that it was time to stop chasing things. It felt like his whole lifetime had been spent running. Either he was tripping over himself to catch up to his mother and brother, or he was taking off from everything he didn't want to face. _Too much Kirk, not enough Vandal - too much Vandal, not enough Kirk._ The thought was one that he'd run from for a long time as well, the idea keeping him from fitting in quite right wherever he was for years.

He'd finally made his peace with himself and found a balance within his own nature, and he now finally found a reason - reason_s_, soon - to stop running, and he had a feeling he was exactly where he needed to be for now.

* * *

Sam was thirty-one when he finally saw his brother's face again on something more than a database photo or an old photograph. It was all over the holovision when he turned it on, ready to settle in with Aurelan, the twins, and his youngest son for the night. Every channel had his brother's face on it (and several other faces, but he didn't care who they were right now), and for a moment he was lit with a panic he hadn't felt since discovering what had happened on Tarsus.

Then he read the captions and was floored.

His brother was a hero and had saved the entirety of Earth - possibly the entire Federation, if the reports were accurate. Sam also wondered what parallel world they fell into, upon learning of the time-travelling Romulans and their advanced ship. The ship that apparently Jimmy destroyed with a single Federation ship less than half its size and with a fraction of the technological advancements.

This kid. Nana would have been proud.

(He won't admit it, like any Kirk in their family, but he cried that night upon learning that the reason - the _person responsible_ \- for his dad's death was finally gone.)

He learned that even though his brother and the crew had defeated the Romulans, their ship had been damaged in the attack, and they were limping their way back home slowly. He learned they were due to arrive at the Terran Interspace Station in a week. Sam had looked up from the reports at Aurelan, and didn't even have to say a word as she showed him her PADD where she'd already started looking up transportation prices. He realized yet again in that moment that marrying her had been the best decision of his life so far.

The next morning he was hugging his wife, twin daughters, and son goodbye and taking off for the Station in the hope of catching his brother before he disappeared again. He was following the re-awakened instinct that flared to life the moment he caught sight of his brother's image, but it didn't feel like he was losing himself to it this time. It was for them both, and it was about time they met again. And somehow, for the first time in a long while, Sam had a good feeling that they would.


End file.
